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His voice is small and quiet over the phone; it's so unlike him.
“Can I come over?”
“Of course.”
He's at his door faster than he could have imagined. He's barely had time to rub the sleep from his eyes or get properly dressed, answering the door wearing only a pair of old, gray sweatpants.
“I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call.”
“It's fine,” Derek says and ushers him inside, locking the door behind him. “What's going on?” He asks Scott as he sits at the foot of Derek's bed.
“I can't sleep,” he replies and it's only then that Derek realizes Scott looks like hell; his color is off, bloodshot eyes, and the dark circles underneath his eyes paint an unpleasant picture.
Derek stands in front of Scott and crosses his arms over his chest. “For how long?”
He scratches his head and is quiet for a moment. “About four or five days? I don't know, I lost count. It feels a lot longer than that.”
He keeps fidgeting and looking around, looking out the window. “I've been seeing things,” he says and he sounds desperate and afraid, and it worries Derek; he's never seen Scott like this before. He's the kind of person who will keep everything bottled up so he doesn't worry or bother others. It's the one thing Derek has always hated about him.
“It's getting to the point where I can't close my eyes,” Scott whispers as if it's something to be ashamed about. “I keep seeing Stiles when he was...” he can't bring himself to say the rest, but Derek knows he's talking about the Nogitsune. “It's like a flickering picture I see out of the corner of my eye. I never get a full look, but I know it's there.”
Scott's eyes are glassy now, shining brightly even in the dim light of the loft. “I get these visions of the Oni when I'm trying to concentrate in class and they won't stop no matter what I do. I see...” he inhales deeply and swallows hard as if he was dry swallowing a large pill. “Her.”
Derek sits next to him. “Who? Who do you see?”
Scott lets out an incredulous laugh and his hands curl into fists on his knees. He shakes his head. “I feel like if I say her name, she'll appear.”
“Scott, you're safe here,” Derek reassures him.
“Allison,” he whispers. Scott's eyes dart around, making sure they're the only two people in the loft. The bewildered look in his eyes makes Derek worry even more. He gently lays his hand over Scott's fist, and he flinches as Derek's hand makes contact with his.
He tips Scott's chin up to look him in the face. “From what you're telling me, it sounds like they're just hallucinations. You need to sleep.”
“I can't. I don't want to,” Scott says and Derek can feel him shaking. His eyes are brimming with tears. “I don't want to see her.”
“Listen,” Derek tells him and holds both of Scott's hands. “Calm down and even your breathing. Inhale and exhale slowly. I don't want you to have a panic attack.”
Scott reluctantly does as he's told, and eventually the shaking subsides. Derek knows Scott carries an immense amount of guilt over everything that has happened, even the things he had no control over. Guilt is a tricky thing to deal with, and it would take longer than a single night to alleviate. He's not equipped to help someone who feels the way Scott does, but at least the sleep deprivation was something he could fix.
“Stay here,” he says and heads into the kitchen to brew a cup of his favorite peppermint tea. When he comes back with the mug, Scott's legs are shaking nervously. “Drink this slowly. It'll relax you.”
He keeps his eyes on Derek as he gathers a few blankets and a pillow. “You can sleep here, if you want. I'll take the couch.”
Scott almost burns his lips. “No, don't do that. I don't want to bother you any more than I already have.”
Derek didn't feel like arguing this late in the night. “Fine.”
He walks to the couch with the blankets in one hand and the mug in the other. Scott appreciates what Derek has done, but he can't stand to drink any more of the tea, as it somehow feels heavy in his stomach. So much for it being soothing.
Both settle in and silence creeps in. Derek attempts to go back to sleep, but Scott's heartbeat is drumming too loud in Derek's ears. He hears Scott tossing and turning on the couch, his breathing grows rapid.
“This is ridiculous,” Derek growls and sits up. “Come here, Scott,” he says and folds down the other half of his covers.
“What?” Scott says from across the loft.
“Get in. Safety in numbers and all that,” Derek sighs and moves over to give Scott more space in bed. “We're both here, so there's nothing to worry about.”
Scott reluctantly climbs into bed with him, and as soon as he does, he doesn't feel as wound up as he did just a few minutes ago. He doesn't feel a sense of danger, and he even begins to feel like he could actually sleep tonight.
Silence settles in once more, and he feels Scott shift closer to him, pressing his chest against Derek's back and an arm around his midsection. It takes Derek by surprise, but he doesn't move away. In that moment he reminds Derek of Cora. When she was younger, she would crawl into his bed during raging thunderstorms and clutch onto his clothes as if it was the only thing keeping her tethered to this earth. If this is what it took for Scott to feel safe and begin the healing process, then he doesn't mind. He doesn't mind at all.